Judge Dredd, The Samaritan (an alternative and not so unhappy ending)
by Estefan Garfield
Summary: I wrote this in reaction to the conclusion of the recent Judge Dredd Prog in 2000 AD, "The Samaritan" storyline that was published this Wednesday. I felt sick with despair and that is what the repulsively sadistic author of this story intended. So I decided to write a more balanced ending.
1. Chapter 1

**Judge Dredd, The Samaritan (an alternative and not so unhappy ending) Chapter One**

**I wrote this in reaction to the conclusion of the recent Judge Dredd Prog in 2000 AD, "The Samaritan" storyline that was published this Wednesday. I felt sick with despair and that is what the repulsively sadistic author of this story intended. I was surprised in not finding Judge Dredd in the comic Section so I had to publish this in the film Section**

**Comics have become very serious and dark; that is for the best I guess, because this is not a rosy world. In many ways Judge Dredd has been the pioneer of this evolution; a dystopian future where the green jackboot of the judge is the only thing that keeps the remnant of humanity alive. Judge Dredd stories are mostly bitter stories demonstrating the absolute cruelty and inhumanity of this world. Standing amongst all this violence and inhumanity, Judge Dredd stands out. He is part of this horrifying world and has caused great pain and misery himself. His genocidal act of destroying East Meg One (which consequences, he and Mega City One eventually faced), his role in the creation of Total War, his strict and pitiless administration of the law and etcetera, etcetera. Despite all this, Dredd never forgets his duty and his stoic manner, morals and loyalty to the concept of justice, makes him a hero. He has even improved by distancing himself from his fascistic tendencies and standing up to others with totalitarian approaches. All of this leaves his viewers with some hope. **

**I have been reading Judge Dredd for a long time and I know how Dredd's world work; all stories have tragic victims, many stories does not have a happy ending and we should always be ready for a very dark conclusion. However no story has left me with such anguish than "The Samaritan". I give the author his due, the story is ingenious in many ways, but at the end, we are left not only without any hope but the knife twists even further. The Samaritan character is practically a saint; a psych who has an instinctive urge to help those in medical need. She saves Dredd but is shot by Rico when she tries to preserve her freedom. As if that was not bad enough, the remnant of her beingness (her mind, her soul? Take your pick) is put into a justice department facility, forever used and abused by the system. The author, in his sadism, did not even left any chance for her resurrection to a worthwhile life. Her body has been nearly decimated and hooked up into machines and neither Dredd nor Rico demonstrate any sense of guilt or regret.**

**Our world is not a rosy one and Judge Dredd's world is a dark dystopia, but there has to be a limit to hopelessness and a limit to author's sadism. So this is my way of putting a small amount of realistic hope out there, which will lighten some hearts, including my own.**

**This Story is based on P.O.V style of story telling. I welcome your views and comments. **

This alternative ending of the story begins at part four. Please Check "The Samaritan" Story in 2000AD.

The Samaritan

The judges are close! I could see them in the cameras that I had installed around my compound. Their search was slow going but they were checking the buildings and will soon find me. I am not going to stay here and leave myself at their mercy. Dredd is up and recovering faster than I could believe! Sure I had done a good job on his brain, but he is sitting up only an hour after the surgery! He said something about pain in his head and I assured him that was natural post-surgery affects. Then he saw the camera monitors, "No use running", he rasps, he is weak but his words are sure and authoritative. "Stay here and I will do my best to get you a reduced sentence." That just made my mad and I lost it, screaming: "SENTENCE? SENTENCE! By what right do you judge me? Why I should be sentenced? I have done my very best to help people, in this measurable and violent grud forsaken city! I have saved people! I have saved you and all I ask is to be left alone to do my thing. And you can only think about how many years I am going to serve in the cube? Why should I be cubed at all?

"You broke the law! Kidnapping, unlicensed medical practice and I am sure we will find more to add to that list. Being an unregistered psych alone buys you five years in the cubes."

I should have left him in that alley to die! In my rage I was thinking something, which ran against my gene and moral code. But this self-righteous meathead is making me angry and he is scaring me and I do not scare easy, given what I do; rushing to crime scenes just to save the poor bastards who have been gutted by bullets or knifes or whatever. But I am scared, scared of loosing my freedom and maybe my life. Judges do not let psychs go, they have plans for them, using them in any way they see fit. Sure! I want, no, I need to help people but I will not be told how I should do it. Unlike most people in Mega city one I have maintained my individuality along with my morality and genetic predispositions. I will not loose them and besides I do not trust the judges.

I should run, run now and I have a good chance. Instead, I argue with him. "I have not caused any harm and I have saved lives, does it not count for something?" Seeing my fear and desperation make him more confident, "It does! It will go along way in reducing your sentence and along with your gifts it will secure you a future with law enforcement." His voice is less commanding and more reasoned and even emphatic, which gives me the courage to stay and reason with him: "but I have not harmed anyone and all I have done good work." He shook his head, "that does not change the fact that you broke the law." I gave a big sigh, "this is stupid of me, I should be running but there is still some time before your people can pinpoint this building. So I am going to be stupid and argue with you." I looked into his one good eye "you talk of law but is what you are going to do to me, justice?" My question puzzled him for a split second, he had not expected that but a blink and the hesitation was gone. "It is the law, …" he began, "but is it justice?" I insisted, nevertheless he pushed on forcefully "the law must be obeyed! This city would tear itself apart without the law and no exceptions can be allowed." This guy has, literally and figuratively, the thickest head I have ever seen, heard and examined. I sigh again "in my free time, or rather when I allow myself a free time, I read a lot, I read fiction and non-fiction. Not the trash they print nowadays. Classic novels and intellectual work by people who lived from 18th and 20th century! Before this nightmare world came to be." I pause to see if he follows, but he scowled "reading blacklisted books is a serious offence, too many of that stuff undermines the law." Oh for the lover off … "Would you just listen? You talk about the law. A wise man once made this comment about the law and its' enforcers: 'the system may keep to the letter of the law but it is blind to the intent behind it'." For once the old stone face did not gave me a legal comeback. He did not stare but looked at me with great focus and I felt that I had impressed him so I went on "That is the case with you and justice department as a whole. You guys are so hooked up in keeping the law that you have lost the sight of justice." There is something in his eye that gives me a glimpse of hope; despite his thickness he understands what I am saying and that encourages me to press on, "Apart from that, I am not going to put my life in your hands. My mother did not register me because she knew that you would take me away! Enrolling me in the academy or some other program and steal my childhood. She was a good woman and risked everything for my freedom. I am not going to let her sacrifice go in vain by putting myself on the mercy of people who I do not trust."

Dredd continued staring at me and when he spoke, his tone was still reasoning rather than commanding "I understand what you are saying, but there is no other way; _believe me_. You must submit to the law and will be punished accordingly. However, as I told you before, saving me and all those other people will go a long way. I will handle the sentencing and you will be treated justly and with clemency." He is trying to persuade me and that deserves a positive response; a compromise. "Lets say that I am willing to consider that" I say carefully, "lets say that I will submit to your ruling and comply with your directives. Will I be released afterwards? Will I be allowed to go free and live the way I like, provided I do not break the law?" That was something; I could move to another mega-city and start being "the Samaritan" in there, away from Judge Dredd and his pals. "No." He said coldly and without any hesitation, "your abilities are too valuable and helping the justice department will be part of the conditions for your reduced sentence." Tears come to my eyes and I talk through clinched teethes, "Then we have nothing else to talk about."


	2. Chapter 2

Dredd

This girl was not going to listen to me and she was going to get herself killed. Our men were out there looking for the shooter and they were not going to demonstrate any restraint against a suspected Judge shooter and abductor. I tried to persuade her again, pointing out that she had no chance to escape but she would not listen. I could understand her fear and the urge to preserve her freedom and the thing she said about the intent of law hit home. Grud knows that the department as a whole (including myself) had made too many mistakes and done too much damage in the name of the law. I had seen it and I have been trying my best not to repeat them. But this creep was not giving me the chance. No! She is a perp but not a creep. I am trying my best to save her and she is intent on killing herself.

An alarm is set off! Our boys are in and they are going to be here fast. I shouted at her and would have tried to leap and catch her but I am too slow and she runs. This is it, she is going to get shot; under different circumstances she may get shot some place non-lethal. Fat chance of that! Tempers are probably high amongst the judges out there and the department's guidelines about runners were clear: "assume guilt, shoot first and ask questions later". Something should be done about that, too many innocent citizens had been shot for that. A while ago Rico killed one runner who just loved to run because he loved it as a sport.

The door crashes open by a mechanismo unit and several judges' rush in after him. Mechanismos are all the same to me and I am not interested in this one's name. It surveys the room and determines that there is no danger then turns towards me, "Good to see you alive sir. The creep who shot you was very lucky but I guess you were also one lucky judge to be picked up by the Samaritan." Yeah, I was lucky and if this mechanismo knew about the Samaritan, then she may be lucky enough to avoid the resyk. "I take it that you have advised the units that the perp is non-lethal?" The robot replied immediately, "units under my direction are aware but Rico came on his own and did not wait to be updated. Like you, he takes command instinctively; I am going to have a word with him about that. We detected a back-door exit and he has gone to cover it." Rico! Drokk! She is going to die, Rico assumes she is a judge shooter and she is going to die and it won't look good for Rico given his last shooting of a runner. "Patch me through Rico, damn it! NOW!

Rico

The passageway is dark but I can hear steps and I can see through infrared, this creep is going down! I can't make if it is a he or she, not that it matters. This creep is as good as a judge killer and he or she gets one chance to live and that is it. He/She is in range, "STOP! JUSTICE DEPARTMENT! STOP! NOT A SINGLE MOVE, CREEP." He/she pauses for a moment but he/she is turning and he/she may be armed. Your funeral creep! My lawgiver is up and my finger is on the trigger and all of a sudden the old man's voice is in my head! "Rico, this is Dredd, don't shoot the perp, I repeat don't shoot the perp!" Too late! My finger has pushed the trigger but I move my hand away from the target. I do this by reflex but I am not fast enough to avoid hitting her; it is a her. But maybe, just maybe, the barrel has moved by a millimeter, enough to miss her heart or other vital joint.

The Samaritan

The shot hits me in the chest and my psychic dream passes true my mind in a split second. The first shot will be enough to end the second and me & third shots are just overkill. I am going to die! No! I am Dead! My brain has not just registered it yet.

I had heard his voice from behind! Drokk! How did he get to me so fast? He just went through a surgery! No way he could have run! And where did he get a gun? But he is Dredd! I guess compared to other stuff he has gone through, this is nothing! His voice is hard and commanding voice with deadly intent but he was reasoning with me just moments ago, so I stop and turn to try to reason with him once more. Wrong Move! I hear the shot and feel the bullet inside my chest. I am in shock and full of fear but my mind is resigned and waiting for the second and third shots to finish me off. But they never come! It was so clear in my psychic dream but the bullets don't come. Huh! What do you know! So a precog can be wrong or perhaps that future has been altered. Does that mean that I am not going to die? Nope, can't see that happening. My mind is surveying my wound and my body's reaction to it. The bullet burst my chest and has gone out of my back and I am bleeding from both sides. I am still dying, only slower.

Dredd is kneeling beside me. You drokker! You heartless grud-damned drokker! At least you could have aimed low! He is in uniform and instead of my bandages; his justice department helmet is covering his face. Hallucination, I decide; I am dying and my eyes are playing tricks on me. It will be over soon. He is talking through the intercom in his helmet; confirming your kill, you bastard? But he is moving me, firmly but with caution to avoid further damage. He is patching me up as best as he can and not doing a bad job at it. It doesn't matter, I will die, so stop you idiot, why are you doing this? Having a guilty conscience? Then it hits me, no! This monster does not have any conscience outside of his damn, precious inflexible law. No! He wants my psychic powers! He wants to save my brain! NO! I will end up in a drokking legal department lab! Hooked into some machine, feeling nothing but fear, shock and whatever grud-damned task they have set up for me. No! Let me die you bastard! let me die!

He is saying something to me and my brain can still make sense of it. "Don't know why but the old man wants you alive! Meds are on their way, you are one lucky creep."

Lucky! My mind shouts at him! Drokk you old man! Lucky! Let me die you creep! I am going to end up as a prized guinea pig and you call me lucky?

Yeah, that's' me, lucky!

I feel only the cold and the growing darkness. Perhaps my mind is shutting down! Now that would be lucky! Death is better than the alternative! Death will be mercy! Being death is being lucky.


	3. Chapter 3

Some Weeks later:

The Samaritan

I open my eyes.

My mind was up and running way before that but things were hazy and I could not determine what exactly was happening. I was alive or at least my mind was and I could sense that I was connected to medical equipment and other devices. Sweet Jovus! They have done it! I was in one of their psychic machines and they had probably turned me into a machine! No! I want death! Please! My mind calmed down but the despair consumed me. This is it! An eternal life at the service of justice department! I would have cried but that was not a function my body could preform, but somehow, I could feel tears! My mind is foggy and the judges have probably injected me with drugs for their psychic purposes and the drugs were interfering with my brain. I can't be crying!

But I open my eyes! Sweet Jovus I can see! It is vague but I can see the lights coming from the lamps upon the walls.

Through all the fog, I can make out a large white object hovering above me, "Can you hear me citizen?" A med-robot! I immediately decide, I have been around them enough to know those clinical voices. It asks me again if I can hear him but I can't talk; my throat is so dry that it hearts even to swallow my saliva. Sweet Jovus I can feel my throat! "Don't try to talk citizen, answer me by blinking," the mechanical voice says, "Blink once if you can hear me" I blink once and now I can feel the tears beyond any doubt. My body is alive and it can hear, see and feel pain! "Good", the robot's inhumane but reassuring voice is sweeter than anything I have ever heard or tasted. "Now blink again if you can see me". It is still foggy but I can make sense of what I am seeing and I blink again. "Excellent", the med-robot declares, "try to be calm an don't over-extend yourself, you are still very weak. Now that we are sure that you are functioning, it is best for you to go back to sleep and rest." I don't want to sleep, my mind shouts out. My mind _and_body are alive and I want to feel them, I want to feel the pain. It reassures me that I am alive and whole. Sleep now and I can wake up again in a tank acting as a justice department psychic machine! I try to speak but I am still weak and my attempts do not even constitute a decent moan.

The med-robot is trying to calm me down but then I hear another voice! A human voice! "What is going on?" A female voice and it is sweeter than anything I have heard or tasted, better than that of the med-robot. And speaking of which, "the patient is conscious, judge and she displays good cognitive signs." Yes! Let this machine be right, let it be right! "So she is out of danger?" I hear the woman asking, "She is out of danger and all of her is in there?" Yes, I am! I am sure of it now. The med-robot is in no rush to reach a similar conclusion, "I cannot be absolutely sure judge" oh shut up, you piece of crap; of course I am alive and whole! Say it! "But, she has been improving for weeks and she is displaying great signs now. I would say that she is on her way to a full recovery both in body and mind." YES. Thank you! Thank you! "The boys will be happy" I hear the women say, "it would have been a cruel irony, if she had not made it and we have had enough of that to last for a lifetime." Yes, I think … cruel irony; I have been running around helping people and nearly got killed by one of them. That drokker! But I am alive and whole.

The med-robot was talking again, "I am administrating a sedative, she needs to rest but she will be drifting in and out of conscious from now on and eventually the state of conscious will become permanent." Idiot tin-can! I am a psychic! I will be in full consciousness, way sooner than that! But I do not fight the sedatives, sleeping is good now that I am sure that I am alive and whole. I close my eyes and let myself drift into sweet drug-induced sleep.

Some days later

I opened my eyes again. I had done so several times but had decided to go back to sleep. Now, however, I wanted to be awake and my eyes were adjusting. My vision was crystal clear and after looking around to conclude I was in a med bay, I saw a figure sitting on the chair only steps away from my bed. She was a blond; well-built with medium heights and in a judge uniform and her identity badge on it; Riggs. She was having a nap, which suggested that she had spent sometime beside me. My leaps were parched, there was a bedside table near me and I reached for it and the sounds woke her up. "Easy now", she says, in a calm soothing voice "let me get that for you". She offers me the glass and I sipped the water slowly. "Thank you", I said; my voice is husky but there is little pain. "Do you feel strong enough to sit up?" She inquires, hell yes I wanted to sit up after laying grud knows how long on my back. "Yes, please" and she helps me up gently and with care.

It is surprising to see a judge being gentle; even before getting shot by one of them, I had my fare share of being ordered around and questioned by both male and female judges, all of whom had been commanding and rude. Fortunately, my fake ID had always held up and I was told of with a caution. Being treated gently by this Judge Riggs is a good sign. She asked, if I was hungry and I was and she talked into a hospital intercom ordering food. Along with the food, came the med-robot checking my diagram and vital signs and asking basic questions. After announcing that all was well, it left me to enjoy my dinner, or lunch, I had know idea what time it was. Hospital food is the worse and this was a kind of pablum; it was bland and mushy and a good thing, my stomach could not bear solid food. As I was eating, judge Rigs talked through her helmet's intercom, informing my condition to the control and advising them to relay it to the interested parties. That is judges for you, always on the job.

Riggs spoke to me again when I was finished eating, "It is a miracle that you came out of this unscratched", Riggs said mildly, "Don't get me wrong you have been in this bed for months and attached to grud knows how many devices. She paused a bit and then added, "That was very stupid, you know. Running from us, you are lucky to be alive." "So I have been told", I replied "repeatedly and I am persuaded that I am lucky, though I guess things won't be the same anymore". She nodded emphatically, "you bet it won't. You caused us a lot of trouble." For the love of grud! "TROUBLE", I shouted, as best I could, "YOU SHOT ME AND HAVE THE NERVE TO ACCUSE ME OF CAUSING TROUBLE?" I was panting and my throat had become painfully dry. My outburst had taken her by surprise. "Calm down now", she said in a conciliatory tone, "we don't want you to exert or hurt yourself now, do we?" She offered me another glass of water, which I accepted. "Yes, you did cause unnecessary hassle for us but I guess your _were _unlucky, getting shot and all. Had information been dispatched to all judges involved, it could have avoided". She paused abruptly as she saw something outside the room. It was not something but someone, "Well, speak of the devil", was her remark as another judge entered the room. It was Dredd. The bastard had recovered so well that I could not believe it; his movement was confidant and he even looked younger. He took a look at me but addressed his fellow judge instead, "Riggs. Still on light duty I see. Understandable but I thought you would prefer to sit behind a desk organizing sweeps and searches instead of holding a perp's hand." I had noticed that Riggs was not at her best, her steps seemed hesitant and I could see two old injuries but it seemed to me that her problem was not physical." Despite that she looked at Dredd defiantly and said, "Not all of us can have three near death experiences and then jump back on the jump. Besides, I volunteered for this; someone has to show that the department has a heart." Dredd grunted at that and looked at me again from behind that helmet of his. I felt fury in my veins and Riggs firm reply had given me courage. It was obvious that she was reproaching Dredd for what he had done to me.

I talked with calmness that I did not feel: "Why did you shoot me? I had saved your life and you knew I was not armed." "You didn't" he said coldly "and I did not know". I was confused and getting angrier by every second. Was this bucket-head denying that he shot me and suddenly I see his badge; Rico". My physic senses finally picked up the differences of his molecular level. He was younger and with lesser wounds. "You are not Dredd! You are …" I said, astonished, "His clone" Rico replied with that maddeningly cold and calm voice of his. "You are lucky that the old man got to me, before I could fire more rounds. Had he not, you would have end up in the resyk or" I did not let him finish "or in one of your psychic machines, helping you to kill another poor drokker!" My voice was not calm any more but accusingly harsh and I was trying hard not to shout again. Riggs looked uncomfortable but Rico had remained undaunted, "You were ordered by a judge to stop while fleeing the scene of a crime and you did not comply. That is grounds for lethal action." He paused but then continued in his cold clinical tune. "However, given the nature of your criminal activity and the particularities and outcome of your recent lawbreaking, it can be said that had there not been an unfortunate case of miscommunication between the officers involved, I would not have had the grounds for taking lethal action against you. Therefore your near mortal injury was and is regrettable, though not legally unjustified." My mouth was open in bewilderment at this legal lecture and Riggs had a hard time controlling her laughter. "I am glad that you are recovering", he said, and then he addressed Riggs again, "which means she is fit to be duly processed by the law. The old man will be here sometime soon to address the matter." He gave Riggs a curt nod and left the room."

I was left nonplused and looked at Riggs, "that's the closest he will get to say I am sorry." She smirked.

Hours passed and I awaited my fate, though I could guess it easily enough. I tried to inquire Riggs about it but she declined and instead tried to interrogate me in a non-aggressive way. Her first question was about my name; officially I was announced Jane Doe, which would not do at all. I avoided answering her and she avoided answering me. She did not get forceful and left after a while as the shift changed and another judge took over. This guy did not bother talking to me and I was in no mood to talk to him. So, I waited, took a nap and ate again and the shift changed and Riggs was back, and neither of us had much to say to each other. Half an hour later, Dredd entered the room and with him came another female judge; a Latino with a queer name: Beany.

Dredd nodded at Riggs and then his half-hidden face turned on me. "I am glad to see you recovering", he said in a way as if he was commenting about whether. "This could have been avoided if you had listened to me. Resisting arrest is a serious crime and it will be added to your other charges." I guess I should not have been surprised or enraged by his continued fixation on my cube time, but I was! I looked at him with an appalled and indignant gaze. He remained nonchalant and continued, "And there is a long list of charges. Not registering your psychic abilities, illegal medical practice, abduction, resisting arrest, obstructing the course of justice …" This is too much! It is simply too much! "TO HELL WITH YOUR JUSTICE", I cried as I was strong enough to do so without much pain; "you are making stuff up, what obstruction?" Dredd did not make any react menacingly but calmly explained, "Before you fled, you triggered a fail-safe device which wiped out your computer files and any personal items you had in there. We did not find any ID on you, hence the obstruction charge." I was speechless, this guy could make his case, no matter how twisted and unjust the case was. Dredd pressed on forcefully, "all these charges carry considerable cube time, I think Fifteen years would be a more than appropriate sentence." Fifteen years! The guy was giving it away as if he was giving away candies to a baby. Dredd paused for a moment to appraise his effect on me, "However, given the fact that your actions saved the life of a mortally wounded judge and many other citizens and the fact that your crimes were of non-violent nature, I am inclined towards clemency." Of course you do, I thought, and in doing so you will take my life away! "I am willing to suspend the sentence…" Dredd said "… provided that you confess to every other crime you may have committed and submit your psychic abilities to the justice department. The details of your services will be outlined in due course of time."

I broke down subbing; I knew this would happen! I had readied myself for it but I still could not stop the tears. They were going to take my life away, the thing that my mother had done everything to avoid.

"How long?" I asked through tearful eyes. Dredd did not answer and I felt that he and both Riggs and Beany had been taken aback by my question. "Pardon?" Dredd finally said. "How long do I have to work for you? You are taking away my life but there should be a limit to it, there should be a law to protect citizens' individuality against the state!" Dredd did not answer, Riggs seemed impressed and Beany was smiling and spoke for the first time; "I am sure there is a law about that but as it has been not used for so long, it has become legally dormant." Dreed looked at Beany, obviously annoyed. "Quite right", he remarked and turned to me again, "the terms of your services remains to be decided by parties concerned which includes me. Till then, you will work for justice department, indefinitely." That brought fresh tears to my eyes but I refused to give away that easily. I had tried this bargain before without any result but had to try again, "suppose I refuse your terms", I said through gritted teeth, "suppose I accept your sentencing and do my time. Will I be set free with no strings attached? Will you let me live my own life provided I break no laws?" Riggs and Beany were getting anxious, "stop that" Riggs said, "provoking him will not do you any good." "True", remarked Dreed but he did not adopt a hostile tone, "however, she is making an appropriate inquiry. The answer is no; if you do not submit, I will add more years for not revealing your other crimes, the most important of which is how did you hide yourself for so long. Someone must have helped you either due to corruption or for sympathy. You will tell us about that or do more time. As for your original question; your powers are too valuable and letting you operating solo or be taken by competing foreign powers or criminal organizations is out of the question." Dredd had remained coldly calm but now I sensed a the steel in his words, "You can fight this legally but you will loose. You have been resisting me since I woke up in your compound and look what it has brought you to! You nearly died! I have tried my best to help you and I am still trying but I am loosing patience with you." Dredd took two steps toward me and lowered his head. His face was inches away from mine and it was now him who was talking through gritted teeth. "Fight me more and you will find out how unpleasant I can be. If you do not accept the terms, you will not receive any aid from me; you will serve twenty years in prison and will be forced into the department's psychic programs and that will be also unpleasant and uncomfortable should you continue to fight us."

He took his head back and returned to his calm discourse, "look, I understand where you are coming from. I understand your wish to remain unhindered and free. I also understand what you meant back in your compound." I looked through my tearful eyes, puzzled, "keeping to the letter of the law but blind to the intent behind it." Oh that! I had completely forgotten that conversation. Dredd's voice changed into a more reasoned and less commanding tone and I sensed a little hint of empathy. "I understand it, and Beany here understands and relate to it more than I do". He looked at Beany who smiled knowingly and in an approving way. Dredd turned back to me, "in a normal city and society you would be absolutely right but this is Mega City One and it is anything but normal." He turned and took some steps towards the door, "I will let you think about my terms and you would do well to listen to Beany and Riggs, they can outline the positive sides of the deal better than I can." He was at the door now, getting ready to leave "also, I don't want you to think that I am ungrateful for what you did for me. Accept the deal and apply yourself to the job and you will have my support and good will and in time, when some trust has been established, I will address the question of the duration of your services." Dredd took one last glance at me. "You saw who I was and you helped me. Keeping me in your compound was a great risk but you still helped me, I attacked you but injured myself and yet, you still helped me. And you made sure that I and your other patients were secure and safe before running away." He turned his face and continued "there is something fundamentally and purely good in you, which is a rarity in this city. I would hate to cause you any more pain but this is were we are and there is no other choice." His voice was soft now (as close it could be), "please accept my terms".

With that, Dredd departed, leaving me measurable and in tears while Riggs and Beany seemed dumbfounded. They looked at each other and then looked at me and Beany said ""that's as closest he will get to say thank you."

Brigs and Beany worked on me for another hour, telling me how Dredd had never said please to a perp, or to anyone for that matter. Riggs gave me a tissue to wipe my tears, "he is right when he says there is no other way. You will either accept his terms or he will break you. He may hate himself for it but he will do it." Beany nodded and sat on the bed beside me "it won't be that bad, there will be some changes in the way you live and your freedom will become very limited but it will not be all bad." She gave me a reassuring look "and you will get to do what you like to do; helping people who need help. We may be able to let you work part-time in a general hospital. The psychic division will want to ascertain the limit of your abilities which involves some tests but we will not push you hard." Beany took my hand in her own and squeezed it "Dredd was sincere about being grateful and he is not alone, there are many in the department who are grateful. I am grateful." She stood up, "by saving Dredd, you have bought yourself a lot of good will and that will go a long way to improve your conditions and I promise you that I will do my best so that you can maintain your individuality and regain your freedom."

I looked up at them and I knew I had to submit and leave my fate at their mercy. I had to give in but there was one thing that I could not let them have. "I accept", I said sniveling, "I accept everything. I will submit myself to the department's will and I will apply myself to the tasks you set for me…" Riggs and Beany looked relieved and started to smile but I was not finished and went on with grim determination "… except on one thing. I will not reveal the names of those who helped me hide my identity." Riggs scowled and Beanly looked at me sharply, her eyes becoming very hard. "Those people helped me out of love and goodness of their hearts. I will not repay them by putting them in cubes. Compromise on this one thing and I will be yours to do what you will. If you refuse, I will fight you with every ounce of my body and soul, even if it kills me." A minute passed and both of them remained quiet, then an exasperated Riggs began "your loyalty is mispla…" but she did not get to finish the sentence. Beany caught her off "deal." Briggs stared at Beany abashed but Beany continued "you have a deal, I will have it for you in wiring ASAP, and I promise you that the department will not take any action on this issue." Riggs protested, "Dredd is not going to like that. He will insist on …" Beany did not allow her to go on "tough! He can insist away. He cannot have everything and if he decides to fight me on this, he will loose. He may be more senior but I happen to be a member of the council of five. And I think I have my own personal way to dissuade him." That amazed me, amazed that such a young women would have such a high office and would be so determined in challenging Dredd.

Beany looked at me and spoke with a sure and certain voice, "we have a deal and to clinch it, I will stay with you until the legal document is put in writing and signed by both to us." My relief was indescribable and I was looking at her with gratitude, as she continued, "and while we wait, I want you to take a look at a patient." That took me by surprise but Beany explained, "She is a few corridors away from here and we will bring her to you by hover-chair. The former Chief-Judge Hershey is suffering from an acute illness and I intend to do all I can to help her." Her face softened even more, "but before we do that or anything else, let's have your name, shall we? My name is America."

America! Of all the names in the world!

Life, Liberty and Pursuit of Happiness. Those were the founding principles of America, which our forefathers took pains to establish and we, frivolously, screwed it all up.

I had lost my liberty; I had little doubt of that. Despite what Beany and Dreed may say and do, the justice department will rule me in different degrees till the end of my life. But I was alive! When that bullet pierced my chest, I was sure that I faced a fate worst than death. But I was alive and whole. And maybe, just maybe, I could pursue what made me happy. Looking through people and help them; that is happiness to me.

One of three is something and if I have a shot for two out of three, then it is a win.


End file.
